Page 6 of Beyond the Spotlight Discreet Version
I shake my head at the thought. Thoughts I’ve been having for the past two weeks. I really need to get laid. It’s been... too fucking long.
I can’t deny how sexy Savvy is.Was. Because she ghosted me, and I’ll never see her again. I’ll never see her plush curves. Her plentiful cleavage. Her beautiful ass that has been taunting my dreams ever since we filed out of that plane and she walked ahead of us. She definitely swayed those hips, knowing I was watching.
My attraction to her began when she spotted me on the plane, her doe-like green eyes widening. A beautiful pink blush spread across her cheeks and neck. Then she lifted her bag to the overhead bin, her crop top revealing a sliver of her skin. I nearly lost control when her mouthwatering scent of cherries and crème wrapped around me as I moved past her to take Addy to the loo.
Not to mention how she didn’t mind talking to Addy during the flight. She didn’t get annoyed by her rambling or her millions of questions. She didn’t use the condescending voice adults use when speaking to children. She talked to her like an equal.
Addy has slowly been coming out of her shell since starting preschool this past September and socializing with her peers. She’s finding her voice, like when she chastised my friend Jensen at Lana and Mylan’s wedding in Arkansas two weeks ago after he called her Addy instead of Adeline. Then she told Jensen’s girlfriend she resembled a fairy princess with her dress and flower crown. Her shyness returned when Rebecca told Addy she could be a princess.
Yet, Adeline clung to Savannah as if the two had known each other for a lifetime.
Which is the main reason why I’m pissed. Savannah not only ghosted me, but Adeline too.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that Savannah didn’t show up. I lied and said she rescheduled and we’re planning to meet soon.I lied.I never lie to Addy. I didn’t even lie when talking to her about her mother and biological father.
When Adeline was three, she returned from the park with the nanny and asked why the other kids had two parents and she only had one. How she understood what that meant at just three years old, I’ll never know. But I told her the truth.
Then, a year later, she returned home from her first day of preschool, crying because a kid made fun of her for not having a mommy. My heart broke into a million pieces. She was only four. I knew this time when I explained what happened, she’d understand it more.
I told her that her mother got very sick when she was a baby and died. I explained that her mother was my sister, and I took custody of her.
I’ve loved this child like she’s my own. Because she is. She’smydaughter. I gave up acting five years ago to raise her because her biological father is a piece of shit who left Annalee when he found out she was pregnant. He’s been locked up for the past five years of a ten-year sentence on aggravated robbery and assault charges. The idiot robbed a bank with a knife and sliced the security guard on the arm when he got in the way.
My sister met Kyle in Las Vegas while there with her girlfriends for a fun weekend. He was there to waste his money because he had a gambling problem. They fell in love fast and after six months of long-distance texts and phone calls; she moved to New Jersey to live with him. She never told him about her famous and rich younger brother. She stopped telling the men she dated about me because they’d always want something: fame, money, a co-star's phone number. I’m glad because Kyle robbed that bank for gambling money after losing his savings at a casino. He would have used Annalee to force me to give him money.
“Oh, no. What are we pissed about today?” Eloise muses as we walk to the table where she’s sitting next to her partner. She sets her camera down and leans back in the chair, tossing her blonde braided hair over her shoulder and crossing her arms.
“I’m not pissed,” I say and help Addy into her chair.
“You say that every time we meet, then go on a ten-minute-long rant that proves otherwise,” Kelly adds, which makes Eloise giggle.
Kelly and Eloise met at a wedding in Hawaii last year. My friend Mylan Andrews’s former bodyguard, Bruno, married Ginger, who is best friends with Mylan’s wife, Lana. Kelly was the DJ at the reception and Eloise, who used to be Mylan’s assistant, was the photographer. They’ve been dating for almost a year now. They technically live in L.A., but lately, they’ve both been booking jobs here in the Big Apple, so I offered one of the guest rooms in my penthouse. In exchange, they watch Addy when needed as I prepare for my first movie role in years.
“I still haven’t found a nanny,” I begin.
“Here it goes,” Eloise chuckles.
“Sexy Savvy never got back to you?” Kelly asks. They chuck off the blazer they’re wearing, revealing a black crop top, a curvy body, and tanned skin underneath.
I glance at Adeline, who’s not paying us any attention, while she taps away at her iPad. She claims she never listens to our conversations, once telling me that adults talk about boring stuff.
“Please don’t call her that,” I whine. While venting to them the night after she was a no-show, I let it slip once…once…that I thought Savvy was sexy. Then they went on and on about how I had a crush on Sexy Savvy and did kissy faces, smooched on their hands, and sang a song about me and Savvy sitting in a tree with her k-i-s-s-i-n-g. They’re fucking tossers.
It’s now been two weeks and I’m losing my goddamn mind because I can’t stop thinking about her and what I want to do to that body.
“Those are your words, Renny,” Kelly points out.
“Yeah, well, she’s a pain in my arse because I got my hopes up that she wanted the job and now I’m fucking stressed again.”
“Dad, you owe me two dollars.” Addy scowls at me for cursing. I grumble and lean over to take out my wallet and extract two bills to give her. She cracks a smile and wiggles in her seat.
That brat. She totally lied about not listening in on our adult conversations.
I glance around the small space, searching for our server. I desperately need water. My mouth is dry as hell, and I’m still sweating after taking the subway all the way from the Upper East Side. I have a driver, but New York City traffic is shite. Not only is the subway faster, but like the crowded sidewalks, people keep their heads down during their commute. To them, I’m just another man with a kid trying to get to their destination.
It’s only when I stop moving that people pay attention. Like now. A few restaurant patrons do a double take as their eyes pass over me. I quickly turn back around and pick up the menu to scan the options. I’m craving something sweet, and my stomach rumbles at the description of the Soufflé pancakes with honey crisp apples and toffee sauce.
“Hi y’all, what can I get started for you today?”
